Under the Mistletoe Page 3

  “That’s the way it is, huh? Okay, then. How about we drive up to Lake Lodge? I always liked the view from up there.”

  She put the car into gear and checked the rear view mirror before pulling out. “Okay. It’s closed, you know. Has been for a couple of years.”

  “So I heard. Last time I was up there it was looking kinda sad, and that’s when it was still open. I wish somebody would buy it and fix it up.”

  Dorothy shrugged. “Not likely, is it?” She turned onto Lake Road and headed out of town. “The lodge was a big deal back in the days when Legend was some kind of quiet vacation destination. Now it’s not any kind of destination. Just a dead end.”

  “That’s a little cynical, isn’t it?”

  “It’s the truth. Nothing is happening here, except that Legend is dying. I can’t wait to get out before I die with it.”

  “Wow. You are jaded. Why so down on our little burg?”

  “I feel suffocated here. There’s nothing for me to do. I mean, I have a job, and I’m grateful for that, but—”

  “But you don’t want to wait tables forever?”

  “Preferably not. Or if I have to, at least someplace nicer.” She smiled a little and glanced at him. “Someplace Ed and Fred don’t hang out.”

  She saw him cross one ankle over his knee, pulling it up to get situated. No doubt he’d be more comfortable if she pushed the bench seat back, but she might not be able to reach the pedals.

  “So, Dorothy, what is it you want to do with your life?”

  “I’m going to be a pharmacist.”

  She glanced over to see the look on his face. As anticipated, it was priceless. He’d probably expected something like kindergarten teacher. Dorothy knew she wouldn’t last ten minutes in a classroom full of five year olds.

  “I’ve never seen a girl pharmacist.”

  “And you live in the big city?”

  “Yes, Miss Smarty. But I don’t exactly hang out in drugstores. So—you have a year of college in?”

  “Um. Three and a half, actually. I need to get some money together to go back and finish. It’s hard for my parents, especially because of the younger kids.”

  “Good for you for trying, though. There are probably grants and scholarships available. Do you have good grades?”

  “Good enough.” Straight A’s in fact, but it seemed like bragging to say so.

  “Well then. What are you waiting for?”

  “I still need to get some more money saved up. I have a fund.”

  “I’ll bet you do. You’re very organized, aren’t you?”

  “I guess. Are you making fun of me, Charles McClain?”

  “Not really. I’m impressed at your initiative. I wonder if you’re too independent for your own good, though.”

  “A woman has to be self-sufficient in this day and age. The old model of a man taking care of a woman—that’s history.”

  She turned off Lake Road and into the old empty parking lot, avoiding chuckholes in the pavement as best she could. In a moment they pulled up to the big old timber building, which sat in quiet repose overlooking Lake Legend.

  Charles got out and walked to her side of the car, but Dorothy was up and out before he could get there to open the door for her.

  “Yep. You’re an independent little thing.” He chuckled and walked toward the lodge, then up the steps.

  “You can’t go in there.”

  “Right. It’s closed. Gotcha.” He took out a handkerchief and polished a smudged window, then put his face up to the glass. “Pretty dark and empty.”

  “Did you expect something different?”

  He straightened and looked at her. “I don’t know. Sometimes people just abandon a property, and leave a lot of stuff behind. I’ve seen it in repos.”

  “Repos?”

  “Houses that are repossessed. You know. Or even cars. I’ve had to mess in some of that at times. It’s unpleasant.”

  “Well, no doubt! You’ve repossessed people’s cars—and houses?” What kind of guy was he anyway? Sounded like a Class A jerk.

  He didn’t even seem to notice how upset she’d become. Or maybe he simply didn’t care.

  “That’s part of it. I just do the job.” He walked to another window, one of the big ones in the dining room, wiped the glass and looked in.

  “What kind of horrible job is that?”

  “I worked—work in a bank. You know, we make loans—”

  Of all the arrogance. Dorothy stared at his disinterested broad shoulders. “I know what a bank is, Charles McClain. What I don’t understand is how you can be so heartless.”

  “I’m not—”

  “You stand here and tell me you take people’s houses from them, and it’s obvious you have no remorse. That seems pretty darn heartless to me.” A cold breeze blew in off the lake, chilling her to the bone.

  He turned and stared down at her. “It’s my job.”

  “What an awful way to make a living. I’d rather work in a bar the rest of my life than do something like that.”

  “I make loans to people who ask for them. I don’t force them to come in and apply. Sometimes things happen and they don’t repay the bank, and obviously our only recourse—”

  Dorothy had heard enough. She turned and stomped back to the car, furious. Slamming her door, she started the engine. She’d seen his kind before, back when little Tully had his accident and the bills had sent the family finances reeling. The Robbins family had been in danger of losing their house, and if it hadn’t been for a big fundraiser organized by their preacher, the family probably would have been homeless. It’s my job simply didn’t cut it. You were human or you were a machine, and evidently Charles McClain was the latter.

  For good measure, she gunned the engine.

  He opened the passenger door. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Stupidity, I guess. I should never have agreed to go out with you.” She shot him a quick look. “Get in, or get left.”

  His face turned stony, but he slid into the seat and closed his door quietly. “Fine.”

  Chapter Three

  “Well, of course she got upset, butthead. Her family nearly lost their home just a year or so ago. You don’t know what it’s like being on the other side of it.” Dan McClain spoke softly—hardly more than a whisper—but since they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, Charles heard him just fine. Thin, pale light from the east signaled dawn. “You just let your mouth run when you shouldn’t have. Of course most of us McClains do that. The men anyway.” He shifted a leg that had been in the same position for a long time. “Sharon’s pretty good at cutting me off when I’m going to say something I’ll regret. It’s like I have a certain look on my face or something, and she holds up a hand and says, ‘Count to ten, think about it, and then decide if you want to say it or not.’” He shivered. “Man, I tell you, it’s uncanny. I imagine it’s headed off a lot of fights between us, though.”

  “You and Sharon fight?”

  “Not much. Like I said, she sees it coming and usually we avoid it. Weird, but good.”

  “She knows you. She just knows you real well.”

  “Yeah. Yet she stays with me.” He winked at Charles. “And we’ve got a good start on our branch of the family tree.”

  Charles looked away from his brother, scanning the woods for movement. “Marty’s a cute one. Very good start there.”

  “Uh huh. He’ll be a big brother soon.”

  “What?”

  “Quiet. You’ll scare away every deer in the county. I said Marty’s gonna be a big brother. Early July. We haven’t told anybody yet. At least not that I know of. But I wanted to let you know while you’re here.”

  Sure. Because in a month he wouldn’t be anywhere near. Wouldn’t get to watch Marty grow up or see how he took care of his little brother or sister. Dan had always been protective of Charles when they were kids. The perfect big brother. Now Dan was settled back in their hometown, a successful dentist, with a beautiful lovin
g wife and growing family. He could hunt and fish by driving a few minutes outside town instead of having to drive for hours to get to the mountains like Charles sometimes did. And although it was nice there, it wasn’t the Smokies. It wasn’t home.

  “So Chuck, this girl. She’s under your skin, huh?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You haven’t talked about any particular girl –except that one in California—since we were both in high school. Dorothy Robbins is under your skin.”

  “I don’t know her that well. She’s interesting.”

  “And pretty.”

  “And smart.”

  “And local. You’re not gonna stay here and marry a local girl. Be realistic.”

  “She doesn’t want to be local. She wants out of Legend.”

  “Another one.” Dan shook his head. “I don’t get it. This town has a lot to offer—or it could have if people like you and Dorothy Robbins would give it a chance. Just what is it that you’re looking for, Chuck?”

  They were talking too much. No way was a right-minded deer going to come within a mile of them at this rate. But when else would they talk? Dan was usually pretty quiet, plus he was a busy guy. Today Charles decided the talk mattered more than the deer. He didn’t really want to have to drag one out of the woods anyway.

  “I guess I want to show I can be successful on my own. I mean, I enlisted so I could get out of town, and then college gave me a reason to stay out. When I got a position at the job fair my senior year, it just seemed like it was meant to be. I needed to do things my way. Around here... Now, don’t take this wrong. But around here you can’t mess up very badly because your brother or dad or cousin—”

  “Or mom. Or wife.”

  “Yeah. Somebody’s going to help you avoid the mistake. Or help clean you up after you fall on your face. Much as I’m grateful for what you and everybody always did for me, I needed to get out and do some things on my own.”

  “Which you have. Mission accomplished. Successful banker in the big city.” He elbowed Charles. “We are proud of you, butthead.”

  “Nice. But don’t be too proud.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I lost my job.”

  “No! When?”

  “Pretty recent. Nobody’s going to hire before the first of the year, so I decided it was a good time for a visit.”

  “Huh. Well, you could look for a job here.”

  “As what? Dog catcher?”

  “I swear, Chuck, you really need to lose that attitude. We do have two banks—remember? Even if they’re not hiring, there might be some in Knoxville that are. Ever think of that?”

  No. He hadn’t. He’d been so focused on continuing his life where he’d relocated, that he hadn’t even considered relocating back home.

  “Well?”

  Charles looked at his older brother. “I’ll give it some thought. Now shut up and let’s act like we’re deer hunting.”

  ****

  Typical Saturday night. Half the crowd came in already three sheets to the wind. Dorothy pocketed a tip and started cleaning the table. Typical, but maybe a little busier. She was tired, and it was only ten-thirty. Part of the problem, she knew, was that she’d missed a lot of sleep since that morning at Lake Lodge almost two weeks ago. She’d also spent time getting all worked up about things she should have said to Charles McClain. His cavalier attitude toward repossessing houses made her livid, but at the time she’d been too emotional to think straight. Now she had a speech all ready for him, if only she had the chance to use it. It was unlikely he’d turn up in the saloon again. He didn’t seem to have friends here before. Only Jim Bob had talked to him. Well, no wonder—the man was obviously a troll. A very good-looking, nicely built troll, which was a pure waste. Jim Bob had said he was just here for a visit, that he’d be going back to California. That made sense. Legend folks wouldn’t act that way...

  She stopped in her tracks, and the jukebox wafted one of its remaining non-Christmas songs to her. Mel Street, Smoky Mountain Memories.

  No, Legend folks wouldn’t act that way. Much as she wanted out of town, she knew this was true. It hadn’t been a Legend banker who’d started foreclosure proceedings. It had been a place in the city where her dad financed expensive tools. He had put a second mortgage on the house to pay for those, and when he couldn’t pay, the business had not listened to reason, nor cared about little Tully’s accident. They just referred it to a lawyer, and things quickly escalated.

  Thank goodness for the preacher, the congregation, and, well, much of the county’s population, who chipped in to help. Even old Mr. Finley, President of Legend Bank & Trust, had been a participant at the fundraiser. She distinctly remembered him doing the cake walk, because he had seemed so incongruous in his dark suit.

  She straightened, threw her shoulders back. That was history, and certainly didn’t mean she wanted to stay in Legend. It simply meant that not all bankers in the world were as heartless as Charles McClain.

  “Hey! Dorothy, come here!” Jim Bob shouted and waved the telephone at her. What in the world? Something must be wrong at home!

  She dodged people and chairs to get to the phone behind the bar. Her hands were shaking like a head of foam as she grabbed the heavy black receiver.

  “Yes?”

  “Dorothy. This is Charles McClain—Don’t hang up!” He shouted it just as she was about to do so.

  “You scared the time out of me. What do you want?”

  “Seems obvious enough. I want to talk to you. Can’t find you anywhere else. You dodged me after church last week, and when I saw you walking down Main Street, and—”

  “I was in a hurry. And I’m in a hurry now. I’m working!”

  “You were avoiding me then, and you’re brushing me off now. I want to talk to you.” He paused. “Need to talk to you. Okay? I called so at least our conversation can be more private than we could have if I were sitting at the bar right now. Can I meet you after work?”

  “It’s a free country.”

  “I don’t want to scare you again by stepping out when you’re not expecting me. Can I meet you at the door when you get off work tonight?”

  “You didn’t scare me. You just surprised me. But, it’ll be late...more like morning.”

  “That’s fine. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.”

  It sounded secretive and exotic. Meeting a handsome man after work, in the middle of the night, in the dark...in Legend. Well, okay, it was Legend, so forget exotic.

  She did want to see him again. To give him the speech, she reminded herself. The speech about not being a heartless banker. But not right here, where Lila Sue could watch. Dorothy turned so she had as much privacy as she could manage.

  “Not here. By my car. You know where I park.” She told him what time, and hung up.

  The rest of the night dragged unbearably, though she was no longer tired. I am not excited about seeing him again. I’m looking forward to telling him off, that’s all.

  ****

  She stepped away from the front door as Jim Bob locked the deadbolt, and walked toward her car. There was her visitor, leaning against it, arms and ankles crossed. A cold wind sliced its way up Main Street and Dorothy secured the top button of the old navy peacoat she wore back and forth to work. She didn’t want her pretty pink jacket to smell like Jim Bob’s. But now she realized this wasn’t the way she wanted to look or smell for this meeting.

  Oh well, the decision had been made.

  “Hey, Dorothy.” He pushed himself upright and walked toward her. He looked delicious and a little dangerous in the dim illumination of an evergreen-shaded street light.

  “Hey, Charles McClain.”

  “Why do you always do that?”

  She hugged herself, wishing the wind would die down. “Do what?” Pulling an elastic band out of her pocket, she tied her long hair into a knot to stop it from whipping into her face.

  “Why do you always call me by my first and last nam
es?”

  “I don’t know.” To keep a distance between us? To remind myself you’re not really here—you’re just temporary? The thoughts surprised her. “So it bothers you?”

  “A little.”

  “Good.” She smiled up at him. “Then I’ll keep doing it.”

  “Somehow I thought you might. Man, it’s cold out here! Can we sit in your car and talk?”

  “Well...”

  “I promise not to accost you.”

  “I promise not to let you.” She walked to the driver’s side. “Get in.”

  She started the engine and hoped the heater would do its thing quickly. Then she turned to him.

  “There’s something I need to say to you.” They spoke the words simultaneously.

  “You first, Dorothy.”

  “Well. I need to tell you that the other day when you were talking about throwing people out of their houses—”

  Charles held up a hand. “Okay. Please. I am so sorry about that. I didn’t know what your family had been through.”

  “You’ve been talking about me to other people?”

  He smiled. “Hey, it’s Legend. What else is there to do?” She swatted his arm. “Okay, but it was just my brother Dan. I told him how one minute everything was fine, and the next minute you hated my guts. I had no idea what I’d done wrong. He told me about your little brother’s accident, and the foreclosure lawsuit. I’m sure it was awful.”

  “Yes, it was. You obviously never thought about it before, which is pretty darn sad, Charles McClain, if you go around repossessing things. Do you think people don’t care?”

  “It was my job. I was just doing my job.”

  “What kind of job is that, if you’re hurting people?”

  “I’m not there to hurt people. I’m there—I was there—to help them. I helped people get loans so they could buy things they wanted.”

  “Or needed.”

  “Yes. Or needed.”

  “And then they’d get behind on payments, and you were all over them.”